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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=341562" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>On Wenlock Edge The Wood's In Trouble</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=341562" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">On Wenlock Edge the wood's in trouble;<br>His forest fleece the Wrekin heaves;<br>The gale, it plies the saplings double,<br>And thick on Severn snow the leaves.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=341562" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">'Twould blow like this through holt and hanger<br>When Uricon the city stood;<br>'Tis the old wind in the old anger,<br>But then it threshed another wood.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=341562" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Then, 'twas before my time, the Roman<br>At yonder heaving hill would stare;<br>The blood that warms an English yeoman,<br>The thoughts that hurt him, they were there.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=341562" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">There, like the wind through woods in riot,<br>Through him the gale of life blew high;<br>The tree of man was never quiet:<br>Then 'twas the Roman, now 'tis I.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=341562" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">The gale, it plies the saplings double,<br>It blows so hard, 'twill soon be gone:<br>Today the Roman and his trouble<br>Are ashes under Uricon.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Alfred+Edward+Housman">Alfred Edward Housman</a></strong></div>